


sweet hymns of joy

by DarkBeauty_890



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M, but he loves even lots, isak is a dumbass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 03:03:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9052618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkBeauty_890/pseuds/DarkBeauty_890
Summary: Eskild breathes out a breath and his entire being seems to loosen, once he realizes that they were in no real danger. He cocks a hip and shifts the frying pan of bacon, “You call me in here, practically screaming bloody murder… because your boyfriend’s parents were lovely enough to buy your stinky ass something?”
Well when he puts it like that Isak supposes it sounds a bit dramatic.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi All! Merry Christmas!!! And happy holidays <3
> 
> This is actually one from my Tumblr... but it's Christmas and I'm putting it on here too. Short and sweet, hope you like it.

_**Even:** _

_Merry Christmas baby <3_

_**Isak:** _

_Merry Christmas <3! _

_When are you coming over??_

_**Even:** _

_Later tonight probably. Grandparents are in town_

_**Isak:** _

_:(_

_**Even:** _

_:(_

_You should come over here though. I know my parents want to give you their present… and I can give you mine later tonight ;)_

 

Isak stared at the phone blankly for a few long moments until the screen went black. Parents? Gifts… from Even’s parents?

Isak bolts up in bed, “ESKILD!”

From the kitchen, he hears a thump, then a curse, then the sound of pounding feet. Isak’s door swings open and Eskild, don in a pair of elf boxers, a Santa Claus hat, and nothing else, holds a frying pan filled with bacon as a weapon.

“What?” He said, looking around the room for an intruder, “What happened?”

There was a certain roaring in Isak’s ears that made it seem as though he were underwater, floating in an abyss of panic and inadequacy. He stays here in this feeling for a few seconds, before all at once everything rushes back and he’s left staring up at a bewildered Eskild.

“Even’s parents got me a Christmas present,” Isak says quickly, running a hand through his hair, “Why would they do that? I didn’t get them anything. Why wouldn’t Even tell me to get them something, too? Now I’m going to be a jackass who doesn’t get his boyfriend’s parents something.”

Eskild breathes out a breath and his entire being seems to loosen, once he realizes that they were in no real danger. He cocks a hip and shifts the frying pan of bacon, “You call me in here, practically screaming bloody murder… because your boyfriend’s parents were lovely enough to buy your stinky ass something?”

Well when he puts it like that Isak supposes it sounds a bit dramatic.

Isak sighs, “Is this a gay thing?”

If possible, Eskild’s face grows even more incredulous, _“What?”_

“Is this like- a thing. That gay guys give the parents of their… significant other presents. This is all very new to me, Eskild. I’m not sure of the rules yet.”

Eskild turns on his heels and walks away, throwing a muttered “fucking idiot” behind him.

As usual, when left to his own devices, Isak panics. He calls Jonas, who provides little more than a mumbled “Merry Christmas” and an “it’s 8am, you fuck”.

Isak groans and contemplates turning to Google, before he becomes aware of his phone vibrating in hand.

_Even Kosegruppa_

Fuck. If he doesn’t answer, Even will know something is up, considering Isak didn’t respond to his last text. If he does answer, Even will hear the panic in his voice and Isak will never live this down.

The phone rings out and Isak didn’t answer.

He breathes a sigh of relief, starting at the black square, willing it to just stay-

It starts buzzing again and _Even Kosegruppa_ will not be ignored. Bastard. Damint.

“Heyyyy Baby,” Isak says into the phone, gnawing at his thumb nail.

“Hi,” Even’s voice always sounds smooth over the phone, broken up only by the sound of genuine happiness, “Is this a bad time?”

“Um.” Isak searches for an excuse, but comes up blank. Inwardly he curses, “Fuck, your parents got me something? What do they like? I’ll have to run to the _store,_ Even.”

The line is silent. Isak holds his breath. Did he say something wrong? Maybe this really _was_ a gay relationship thing he didn’t get the memo about and now it sounds like he doesn’t _care_ and fuck, is Even going to think he doesn’t like his parents? Because that is not true, holy fuck.

Even bursts out laughing, “Jesus, Isak. Is this why you didn’t respond to my next? I can practically hear you having a heart attack over the phone.”

“Fuck you,” Isak groans into the receiver and flops back down onto his bed.

“Just come over in like 20. You don’t need to bring a gift, I promise.”

Isak groans in agreement and hangs up.

* * *

 

“Merry Christmas,” Even says, an hour later, as they were both curled up in Even’s bed.

In the background, Moulin Rouge is playing (all apart of the Special Edition Baz Luhrman box set Isak had gifted him- well along with a coupon for an _enthusiastic_ blow job that will be cashed in later tonight).

Isak tilts his head up, nose brushing against Even’s, feeling so so content in a way that he doesn’t think he ever has. Like this moment, right here and now, is the happiest he’s ever been. And it’s thanks to the boy with arms wrapped securely over his waist.

Isak kisses him once, twice, a third time, before pulling back and lowering his forehead to Even’s collar bone. “Merry Christmas.”

“Do you like what my parents got you?”

A hint of a smile curls up on Isak’s lips- just the tiniest hint of delight that is matched and reflected when he pulls his head up and looks back into Even’s eyes.

Isak turns in bed, throwing an arm put and feeling around on the comforter until he finds the present. When his hands clasp cool metal, he place it between Even and Isak- so that they both could look at it.

It was a picture frame- cool silver and gleaming with small groovings etched into the metal. At the bottom center, an intricate E and I stand out. Isak loves the picture frame- loves how shiny and personalized it feels.

But he loves the picture inside even more.

It was one he briefly remembers Even’s mom taking, the first time Isak had met them. It was obviously of Isak and Even, spread out on Even’s floor, cheese toasties resting on plates in front of them in some form of a picnic. Even’s head had been pillowed carelessly on Isak’s thigh and his smile is curved in a smile, eyes looking up, up at Isak.

Isak, to the contrary, is looking down at Even, hands caught in his hair. He looks awed and so, so in love it almost hurts.

Which, accurate.

“I love it,” Isak replies, ghosting his fingers over the framed moment. “It’s really- I love it.”

“Good,” Even says, as if he didn’t know just how much the picture meant to him. (He does, but Even is weird about this. Respects Isak’s desire to not appear as mushy and soft as he actually is.)

“Yeah,” Isak murmers, curling further into Even, “Very good.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! If you did and want to mosey on down to the comments or kudos button- I do love when people come talk to me!
> 
> And my tumblr is: http://shadeandadidas.tumblr.com/
> 
> I post new drabbles fairly daily that I don't put on archive for now :P I also love to talk, so take advantage of the messaging button!!
> 
> Happy Holidays :D


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